


Would You Trust It

by Theoroark



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, OW Femslash Big Bang, Sickfic, Team Talon (Overwatch)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 18:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17730098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: Sombra falls during a mission. Widowmaker is left to help someone who could never admit she needed it.-For the 2019 Overwatch Femslash Big Bang





	Would You Trust It

They took their normal seats on the drop ship: Reyes up front, just outside the cockpit, as though he would need to step in and take over at a moment’s notice. Widow sat near the hatch, both for the convenience, and because she could swear feeling the air and hearing the wind helped her acclimate better when she landed. Sombra, she knew, preferred to sit in the back, an informal gatekeeper to all the gear on the ship. But about a month after they had started dating, she had taken to sitting next to Widow instead.

 

Reyes paced before they dropped, his hands clasped behind his back. Widow sat in silence, a kind of malevolent meditation, her blank mind almost as a mercy. Sombra distracted herself by reviewing the data, flipping through glowing purple screens and mumbling to herself. Now that she was pressed up against Widow’s side, this habit should have become even more irritating than it already had been. But about a month after they had started dating, Widow found that the coolness of Sombra’s neural implants on her neck and the sight of her lips silently moving mitigated it all.

 

 

Reyes stopped pacing and turned to them. The ship slowed and began to drop. Sombra lowered her screens and raised her head from Widow’s shoulder.

 

“You’re sure the ambassador has no idea we’re coming,” he said. Sombra sighed and flipped the display to face him, and he walked over and bent down. Widow glanced at the mirrored diagrams through the translucent screens.

 

“I’m guessing the ambassador is kind of always expecting threats,” Sombra said, poking at the imagine of a besuited Omnic. “She’s the first Omnic representative to the UN, and she’s not in Numbani anymore. Null Sector wants her dead for cooperating with humans and the anti-Omnic crowd wants her dead for existing. So I don’t think we’re going to be able to just walk up to her. But no,” Sombra moved a lengthy text script to the forefront of the display. “The only mentions of Talon in her email and text logs are discussions of the Mondatta assassination. Doesn’t seem to think we’re going to branch out of the Shambali.”

 

Reyes dipped a claw into the purple light, scrolling through the emails. “She’s talked about it a lot, though,” he said. “What if she recognizes Widow?”

 

“She won’t ever see me,” Widow said. Reyes glanced up at her, then turned to Sombra. Widow scowled and Sombra rolled her eyes.

 

“She’s not going to see Widow,” Sombra repeated, and Widow’s scowl faded but she carefully kept a smirk from replacing it. Sombra pulled up a 3D map of the building and Widow focused on the white dot near its peak. “She’s away from all cameras, and she’ll be covered until the target starts to move. She’ll be exposed for like a minute, tops. That said, if you’re really worried, you could get her a uniform other than reflective spandex.” Reyes stood up and Widow elbowed Sombra lightly. Sombra just snickered and snapped her hand shut, disappearing the diagrams.

 

“Talk to Moira,” he said. “She says it helps with circulation. So.”

 

Sombra stood and so Widow only caught a glimpse of her expression, and could not decipher it. When Sombra turned to look down at her, it was replaced by her familiar, troublesome smile. “Well,” she said, extending a hand to Widow. “Guess we better finish up quick then, huh?” Widow took her hand and let her pull her up.

 

“In such a hurry to get me out of my clothes, ma chère?” she asked sweetly. Sombra laughed, Reyes sighed, and the hatch opened and sunlight poured in as he walked out. Sombra stood as well, and dropped her translocator in Widow’s lap as she left. She had done this even before they had started dating. A month in, all that had changed was Widow’s sense of timing. Before, a mission ended when the target fell. Now, it was over when the beacon lit up purple and Sombra was standing in front of her, bright and grinning.

 

-

 

It was winter in the Hague, and snow covered the ground. Widow did not feel the cold, but Reyes and Sombra certainly did and grumbled as they made their way from the ship to the building. Widow slung her arm around Sombra, and Sombra leaned into her and complained a bit less after that.

 

At the edge of the city, they split up. Widow took to the rooftops, Sombra and Reyes entered the sewers. When she arrived at the International court building, her holovid pinged on. A map marked two locations: the most pronounced of the row of archways lining the building, and a spot within the gate but, when Widow turned to look, occupied solely by a shrubbery. She took out her rifle and scoped in. From within the shrub, Sombra waved cheerfully at her.

 

“You look like you’re in a cartoon,” Widow informed her. Reyes crossed his arms and Sombra laughed.

 

“It’s working, isn’t it?”

 

Widow scanned the grounds. It did, in fact, seem to be working. A group of Omnics stood in the foyer– the ambassador’s staff, Widow recalled from her dossier. And guards staffed the gate. But there was no one remotely interested in the property’s greenery.

 

She brought the bush back into focus. Sombra was rubbing her head. Widow frowned.

 

“Problem, Sombra?”

 

“What? No.” Sombra dropped her hand. “Her guards– they have scramblers projecting to all non-verified frequencies. Brick any Null Sector bots that show up. Doesn’t get past my firewalls, of course, but does give them a work out, and does give me a headache.”

 

“Ah.” Sombra turned her head slightly and the bright pink of her neural implants came into view. “Well. I hope you feel better soon.”

 

“I’ll feel better once we can get out of here.”

 

“Still in a rush to finish?”

 

“Please. For you, I’ll always take my time.”

 

Reyes coughed. “The ambassador should be exiting sometime in the next few minutes. So stop fucking around.” Sombra turned to face Widow’s position and winked, then turned invisible. Widow smiled and shifted her rifle towards the archways.

 

The Omnics gathered there abruptly stopped talking. A large door swung open. The ambassador entered the foyer. Sombra swore in her earpiece and Widow grit her teeth.

 

“What?” Reyes asked.

 

“She may have been expecting us,” Sombra said. Widow examined the hard light bubble the ambassador was surrounded by and let out a breath in a sharp hiss.

 

“My bullets can shatter that. But I can’t get to her in one shot. They’ll have a moment to counter.”

 

“It’s okay,” Sombra said. Widow flipped on her infrasight and Sombra’s heat signature flickered into view, running towards the arches. “I’ll drop an EMP. It’ll disappear it. Then take the shot.”

 

“Your translocator,” Reyes barked. “Where is it?” But Sombra had slipped through the arch, into earshot of the Omnics, who were moving steadily out of cover. Sombra walked alongside the entourage and as the ambassador’s bubble entered the sunlight, the heat signature held up three fingers.

 

Two. One.

 

Sombra flashed into living color and a bubble of purple erupted around her, bursting the blue one the ambassador had been standing in. For a second, all was still. Then, the Omnics lit up purple. Widow was familiar with the choreography of EMPed Omnics. A full body shudder, a drop of the shoulders, a break at the knees, the head tips back–

 

With human targets, the weight and velocity of Widow’s bullets created quite a mess. With Omnics, it was a clean affair. The ambassador’s body simply went dark and she crumbled to the floor, a perfectly round hole in the center of her head.

 

Reyes broke the spell. “Your translocator, Sombra. Where is it?!”

 

Widow unclipped the translocator from her waist and set it on the floor. She waited. Sombra normally came right away.

 

“Sombra!”

 

“Wait, Reyes,” Widow said. She could hear his footsteps and she knew he was searching for her and she should be helping him, she had a better vantage point, but she could not take her eyes off of the translocator.

 

Then, it flashed and Sombra appeared. For a second, her face was vacant and her body seemed to have less light. Then she shook herself and Widow could not identify anything wrong with her.

 

“Now, we’re ready to go,” she told Reyes.

 

-

 

Sombra and Reyes went out through the sewers, and Widow left on the rooftops. It probably would have been faster, going with them, but she hated being so low. When they met at the rendezvous point, Reyes was smoking and tense, and Sombra was grinning.

 

“Problem?” Widow asked.

 

“He’s just cranky because we didn’t ‘stick to the mission,’” Sombra said, her voice dropping into a gravelly register at the last part. Reyes pivoted and began walking in the direction of the ship.

 

“I am _upset_ ,” he said. “Because you did not inform me of a very basic piece of information.”

 

“Cranky,” Sombra stage whispered to Widow. Widow pulled a face at her and sped up to Reyes’s side. She looked behind her. Sombra seemed content to lag behind.

 

“I’m sorry for not telling you,” Widow said to Reyes. “I assumed you knew. Sombra’s been leaving her translocator with me for these past few missions.”

 

“I didn’t,” Reyes said wearily. “And when it was clear I didn’t know, why didn’t you just tell me?”

 

That was a fine question and Widow had no answer for it. She could not for the life of her tell Reyes why, in that moment where she heard his fear at being unable to find Sombra, she had been unable to divert the slightest bit of attention to the one piece of her she held.

 

“I apologize,” Widow said. “It won’t happen again.” Reyes tilted his head down at her and she fell back, until she was side by side with Sombra again.

 

“He in less of a mood?” Sombra asked, loud enough for Reyes to hear her.

 

“It’s fine,” Widow said. “It was my mistake.”

 

“Yeah, for real,” Sombra said. Widow stared at her and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Reyes slow down and look back at them. “That was weird as fuck. I know you don’t like talking to people, Spider, but suck it up now and then.”

 

“I will,” Widow said thinly. They were even with Reyes now. Her holovid dinged and he nudged her. She furtively glanced down at it.

 

“Cranky,” the message from Reyes read. She looked up at him and he tilted his head towards Sombra. Widow sighed, put her arm around Sombra, and pulled her close. Sombra pulled away.

 

Widow and Reyes stopped in their tracks. Sombra  turned and looked back at them, an annoyed expression on her face. “What?”

 

“What’s going on?” Widow asked. Because something was not right. Sombra was only truly obnoxious when a person’s anger served a purpose, would reveal some chink in their armor or lower their guard. But Widow could think of nothing her or Reyes’s anger could do for Sombra at the moment.

 

“I’m fine,” Sombra said. “I’m just tired. EMPing takes a lot out of me. Literally.”

 

“You’ve done it before,” Reyes said.

 

“Yeah, and I’ve been tired before.” Sombra turned and continued her march. “Can we just go? Please?”

 

Widow and Reyes looked at each other, then continued. Sombra was walking faster now and they let her lead. They made it another five minutes, almost to the ship, before Sombra stopped in her tracks and shuddered.

 

Widow caught her before she hit the ground. She cradled Sombra’s head in her hands, her neural implants still cool against her skin. Sombra’s face was vacant and her cybernetics were dark. Widow could hear Reyes running up to them but could not take her eyes off Sombra’s face.

 

 

Reyes knelt down in the snow. “What happened?” he asked. His voice had a tremor to it that Widow had never heard before.

 

“She just… collapsed,” Widow said. She ran her fingers along the ridges of Sombra’s neural implants. She could see Sombra breathing, but everything else was wrong. She could feel Gabriel staring at her, but she still did not look up.

 

“You were watching,” Reyes said. “Did you see anything? Hear anything? Gunfire, tripping– I don’t think there’s anything here that could get past her firewalls, but–”

 

Widow looked up suddenly. “The EMP.”

 

“What about it?”

 

“It lowers her defenses at the point of the blast, and the guards had– she said something about anti-Null Sector measures–” Widow met the false eyes of Reyes’s mask. He put his arms under Sombra and carefully lifted her. He continued his walk and after a moment, Widow got up and followed.

 

“We have people trained in cybernetics,” Reyes said quietly. “She’ll be okay.”

 

Widow nodded. She did not trust her voice not to shake when she spoke, and besides, she did not think it would be particularly helpful. So she did not remind Reyes exactly who that person was.

 

-

 

_Sombra’s in a townhouse in a quieter part of Dorado. The kitchen is small and the tile floor is scraped in places but it’s still one of the nicer places she’s been in a long time. An ancient coffee machine spits and hisses on the counter. There’s a muffled whirring and grinding coming from the basement. Maia’s sitting across the table from her._

 

_“You haven’t thought this through,” she says._

 

_“When have known me not to do that?” Sombra asks, and Maia barks out a laugh._

 

_“All the time. You can just usually bullshit good enough to make it look like you know what you’re doing.” Sombra grins and shrugs and Maia turns serious. “But this isn’t hacking or grifting or that shit, Sombra. This is unknown territory for you. You make one wrong move, you’re fucked.”_

 

_“It’s not completely unknown.”_

 

_“What, you mean your corrective surgery?” Sombra nods, she shakes her head. “They don’t teach this shit to doctors in med schools. There’s not decades of best practices to draw on. And besides, this isn’t making you into who you really are. This is making you into… something else.”_

 

_There are succulents lining the window. The smell of coffee fills the air. Maia’s home is nice. Maia also has some of the tightest digital security in the city. It’s one of the few places Sombra can be without them finding her. And even here, she has no guarantees._

 

_“If it’s who I need to be,” Sombra says, “Then that’s who I’ll be.” Maia stares at her. The noise in the basement stops._

 

_The coffee machine dings and Maia stands up to pour them both a cup. But when she does, the counter disappears, then the kitchen, then her, and then Sombra’s alone–_

 

-

 

“And she told me her firewalls were impenetrable,” Moira said sarcastically. Widow clenched her fists.

 

“It was the EMP. She had to lower her protections to cast it–”

 

“Yes, yes, I know, you told me.” A small drone buzzed up to Moira’s head and she tapped it, and the thing lowered onto Sombra’s body and produced a laser beam aimed at her neural implants. Widow looked up and down the bed. It was some combination of hospital bed and operating table. It was stainless steel but there was a thin blanket tossed over Sombra and a small pillow under her head, some fig leaf of comfort. Sombra was laced through with IVs and spotted with two of Moira’s medical drones. She was not moving.

 

“You can fix her, though,” Widow said. Not a question. Moira did not look up from her tablet.

 

“Yes,” she said, and Widow took care to keep from letting out a breath, relaxing her shoulders, betraying her relief in any way. Moira tapped something out and surveyed her patient critically. “I’ll have to keep her here for a while, though.”

 

“What do you mean, a while?”

 

“I mean that because Sombra’s firewalls are so… intense… it will be hard for me to access her cybernetics.” Moira patted the drone near Sombra’s head and Widow’s stomach curled seeing Moira’s hand so close to her. “It will take me awhile to determine the best approach.”

 

“Will she stay unconscious?” Widow asked. Moira shrugged.

 

“Perhaps. Again, Lacroix, I’ll be able to tell you more once I’ve studied her. It will be a bit before I have anything significant to tell you about her condition.”

 

Widow nodded. Moira stared at her pointedly. Widow did not move. Moira sighed and turned on her heel, and stomped into her office. When the door closed, Widow bent carefully over Sombra. She felt her pulse, feeling a bit silly– she could see Sombra’s chest steadily rising and falling. She ran her fingers over her neural implants, bumping away the drone as she did. She felt no differences from all the other times she had run her hands along the back of Sombra’s head. Widow drew her hand away, looked once more at the shut office door, and then carefully raised up Sombra’s shoulders. The translocator receiver welded to her spine was not its standard soft purple, but instead a harsh glitching strobe. Widow closed her eyes.

 

“Widow.” She jolted and Sombra fell from her grasp, and she only turned when she had determined her slip had not hurt her. Reyes waited patiently. “You need to go,” he said.

 

She could argue with him. She could tell him that she didn’t need to, not really. Moira’s moods were his problem, not hers. She could just sit in the corner, a constant reminder to the doctor that unlike with Reyes and herself, there would be consequences for her actions.

 

But the receiver’s broken light was still sending spots in her eyes and it made her sick. She nodded. Reyes held out his hand and she walked past it. After a beat, she heard him follow.

 

-

 

When he had gotten his prosthesis, Akande had been barred from the martial arts tournaments he had lived for. Widow however was not afraid of him, and moreover, she liked him. And so in the early mornings, when they were some of the only people awake on base, they would spar. Even without his gauntlet, Widow rarely won. But she liked it. When they sparred, Widow’s goal was to think about nothing other than what was going on in the ring. And life in the ring was easy enough to understand, even when she lost.

 

“How are you, Lacroix?” Akande asked, as soon as they took their break.

 

“Fine. And you?” She grabbed her water bottle and tossed him his. He caught it and continued to watch her carefully. Widow looked away.

 

“I’m well,” he said. Widow nodded and drank. “Reyes tells me that you had a difficult time at the end of the mission.”

 

“Sombra became incapacitated,” Widow said shortly. “And it was not immediately apparent why. And it is still not apparent how her recovery will progress. It was not an ideal situation.”

 

“He said you didn’t want to leave the medbay when Moira asked you to.”

 

Widow set the water bottle down. “Moira did not ask me to leave,” she said. “She stormed off in some fit and called Reyes on me. It’s ridiculous she’s getting you to talk to me about her inability to communicate.”

 

“Moira didn’t ask me to talk to you, Widow,” Akande said. He sounded tired and she looked over at him. He was leaning back against the ropes, head bowed. “Reyes says you haven’t visited since.”

 

“There haven’t been any changes in her condition,” Widow said. She drew her knees up to her chest. She was sweaty and her hair was sticking to the back of her neck and she was incredibly uncomfortable. Akande cleared his throat.

 

“Yes,” he said. “But given your early reticence to leave her, the change seemed significant. And it’s been several days, and she is your–”

 

“She’s my what, Akande?” Widow whipped her head around and caught him staring at her with wide eyes. “You don’t like Sombra. You think she’s obnoxious, untrustworthy, annoying. You never liked her being my– what?” Akande did not say anything and would not meet her eyes. “But now, all of a sudden, you want me to visit her? You want me to care about her, even though you don’t? Do you mind explaining that?”

 

“I… someone thought it was cause for concern,” Akande said feebly, after a moment. “That you changed your mind about being around her, so quickly.”

“I’m still allowed to change my mind, right?” Widow asked acidly. Akande looked up at her somewhat sharply.

 

“Lacroix–”

 

“It’s fine, Akande. Sorry. Whatever.” Widow stood, dangling her water bottle off her pinky. “Do you want to go another round?” He shook his head. “Then I’m going to go to work,” she said, turning and heading to the exit. “See you later.”

 

She was remorseful as soon as the gym door shut behind her. She knew what he was doing. She liked Akande. But she did not know why she was angry, and so talking to him any more seemed pointless.

 

-

 

_–Sombra’s alone. But she has her earpiece in and Búho’s hacked into all the security cameras in the bank._

 

_“Cops are about ten minutes away,” he says. “Hurry the fuck up, Colomar.”_

 

_“It’s a vault, not the shoebox you keep your weed in,” she snaps. “Chill. I have plenty of time.”_

 

_And she needs plenty of time. The worm she planted to wire 25% of the money to her personal account needs at least seven minutes to complete._

 

_Búho huffs and she winces at the buzz of interference it causes. “You get caught, we’re not breaking you out,” he reminds her. “They’re going to be legit pissed about this one.”_

 

_“I’m not going to get caught,” she says._

 

_“Yeah, yeah.” She hears him tapping at his keyboard and she’s briefly worried that he might spot the worm. But she knows he’s not that great a hacker, and he doesn’t know how good she is. When she gets access to his screen, she sees he’s just playing Tetris._

 

_“I hope you’re paying attention,” she says innocently. “If someone sneaks up on me because you’re fucking around…”_

 

_“It’s okay, Sombra. It’s going to be okay. I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”_

 

_This is wrong. This isn’t something he would say. He’s not right here, he can’t protect her, he doesn’t want to protect her, she’s not Sombra yet–_

 

“Where’s Widow?” she asks. He takes a sharp breath at that, even though she knows he can’t breathe anymore.

 

“She’s– I’ll get her, Sombra. I’ll get her. I promise. It’s going to be okay.”

 

_Then the bank fades and his voice fades and Sombra’s alone–_

 

-

 

“Widow.”

 

Widow flared her nostrils and said nothing. All the upper-level personnel had access to her quarters– she remembered dimly a time early on when her conditioning had started to buckle and Maximilien had simply walked in and subdued her. She had unconsciously operated under the assumption that Reyes would be the least likely to invade her privacy– because he knew what it was like to be stripped open against his will, she thought. She should have known better. Reyes’s desperate, lonely attachment to her meant that he would not let her be, when he was afraid of her.

 

“Widow, you need to visit Sombra.”

 

She set her wine glass down on the coffee table. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him edging closer, but she did not turn to face him. “I don’t need to visit her,” she told him. “If she gets better, we can talk when she’s better. If she doesn’t, she’s not likely to be conscious anyway anytime before.”

 

The scent of rotting flesh suddenly grew stronger, and so Widow did not have to look up to know that Reyes had shed some of his body away in smoke. She stared resolutely at the glass. Reyes being afraid of death wasn’t her problem.

 

“Why don’t you want to see her?” he asked, his tone reasonable, like her apartment did not smell like a dead body now.

 

“I just said. It’s pointless. She’s unconscious. What would I get from it?”

 

“We always get something from it, Widow.” His voice was gentle now and she closed her eyes. Reyes grumbled about sticking to the mission, could rarely be dragged from his quarters to socialize, but he was like a teenager in that way, mulishly separate from his family and achingly dependent on them at the same time.

 

He sat down next to her. “Just seeing our loved ones when we’re worried about them, it helps. Reminds us that they’re still there.”

 

It was just that Widow had never asked to be his family.

 

“Sombra would like it if you visited. I’m sure of that.”

 

But he was all the family she had now, wasn’t he?

 

Widow looked up at Reyes. “She lied to me,” she told him. He blinked.

 

“What do you mean? When?”

 

“On the mission.” Reyes furrowed his brow and she quickly clarified. “She didn’t sabotage us, this time. I mean– after the EMP. She didn’t tell me that she was hit. And I don’t know why.”

 

Reyes nodded and leaned back on her couch. He folded his hands against his stomach. “What would you have done differently, if you had known?” he asked.

 

Widow shrugged. “I don’t know. Tried to get her back to the ship faster.”

 

“You were already moving quickly, right?”

 

“One of us could have carried her or something.”

 

“Maybe.” Reyes sat up again and studied Widow with his red eyes. “Sombra doesn’t like people knowing when she’s vulnerable,” he said after a moment.

 

“But we would have gained nothing from exploiting her weakness in the moment, it would have put us at risk too–”

 

“It’s not a rational thing, Widow,” he said. It seemed almost impossible, given that his face was always drawn and sunken, but he suddenly appeared tired. “It’s just… you go through something, something where you trust someone and it burns you bad. And after that, it’s just a thing that sits with you. And Sombra has it.”

 

Widow looked back down at her glass. “She still should have told me,” she said.

 

“Maybe,” Reyes said. “But you need to go see her.”

 

“We can’t exactly talk through our problems if she’s not awake–”

 

“No, Widow–” He rubbed his face. “You need to go see her. It doesn’t matter where you’re at. Think about where she’s at,” He stared at her with his red eyes, hard. “And go see her. Because I think it would help. Do you understand me?”

 

There was a lump in Widow’s throat and her slow heart rate had picked up. She nodded. “Yeah,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I get you. But. Can’t you help?”

 

Reyes barked out a ragged little laugh, and Widow could almost have laughed with him. Sometimes when she remembered he was an executive, she forgot who he was.

 

“I’ll try,” he said. “But I can’t do it alone. I need your help.” She nodded again and stood. He looked up at her.

 

“I’m going to go see her,” she told him, and left her quarters.

 

-

 

_–Sombra’s alone, and that’s good, because if anyone else were here right now they would kill her._

 

_There hadn’t been anyone around when she found it, and she had taken care to make sure she wasn’t followed. And she’s eating as fast as she can. But she’s still terrified. Every noise sounds like footsteps and her heart jumps so hard it hurts. She’s almost bolted a couple times but her prize makes her stay._

 

_She hasn’t had candy since before La Medianoche._

 

_It’s not particularly good candy, she remembers that much. The chocolate is mostly melted. She has to lick it off the wrappers. There’s some hard fruity ones that nearly broke her teeth when she bit down on them. But it’s a grocery bag filled with candy. She found it when she was looting an abandoned house, and it reminded her of the bags her parents kept on the top shelf, far from her reach. Except this was in a low cupboard and unattended and her parents are dead. So Sombra took it and ran._

 

_She peels open another chocolate bar and holds it over her mouth, letting the goo drip down. This one has puffed rice in it and she entertains the idea that that means it’s more substantive than the rest of this stuff. Her head’s already buzzing, partly from fear but mainly from the rush of sugar, hitting her all the harder because it’s the first time she’s eaten in two days. She remembers her father scolding her and scooping her up after she’d crashed from her sugar high. She doesn’t have anyone to do that anymore. She’s going to need to find a safe place to sleep soon._

 

_She shoves the rest of the candy– a fruit leather and three more chocolate bars– into her pockets, makes sure they’re hidden from view, and then starts down the street. There’s an abandoned restaurant nearby and she’s had luck hiding out in the pantry there._

 

_When she gets there, though, it’s not empty. There’s a boy curled up in one of the booths. Martin. He was in the grade above Sombra, but he was always dumber than her, as evidenced by the fact that he’s fallen asleep in plain view. Sombra stands above him and weighs her options._

 

_He clearly hasn’t eaten much lately. He’s thin and shivering even though it’s pretty warm for the fall. And if she sticks to the kitchen, stays quiet, and leaves early, she could probably spend the night without him ever knowing she was there._

 

_But she has candy in her pockets, as well as plenty of other valuables in her backpack. If he does notice her and he gets the jump on her, she’s fucked. Sombra picks up his pack that he left on the floor and kicks the table over on top of him. He wakes up with an aborted jolt, trapped in place by the table. He stares at her._

 

_“Olivia?”_

 

_“Get out or I keep this,” she says. He flares his nostrils and starts to push the table up, but then he sees the knife in her hand and his skinny shoulders slump._

 

_“Okay,” he says._

 

_“Get out. Nice and slow.” He does, wriggling out from under the table like it’s a limbo pole. He keeps his hands up as he moves around her. When he’s outside, still staring at her, she tosses the backpack through one of the broken windows. He scampers for it and then runs away._

 

_Sombra heads into the kitchen and places a trip wire along the main entranceway. She climbs into the cupboard beneath the window and after waiting to make sure Martin didn’t return, she closes her eyes. The sugar’s leaving her system and she’s exhausted. She feels a little bad about Martin too. He looked hungry._

 

_But it’s everyone for themselves now. And he’s older than Sombra. He’s twelve whole years old. He’s got to grow up sometime._

 

-

 

_The grinding and whirring aren’t muffled anymore because now Sombra’s in the basement. She’s in the surgeon’s chair. Her face is through the hole in the head cushion and so she’s forced to stare at the cement floor. It’s stained in places. Sombra closes her eyes._

 

_“I’m operating on your spinal cord,” Maia tells her. “You won’t be able to move until I’m done.” Sombra nods in answer to her implicit question._

 

_“Do it.”_

 

_Maia lines up the jack to her C4 vertebra and there’s shock of pain, then the pain radiates throughout her body, sharp and constant. It hurts. She knew it would hurt. But she wants to curl in on herself or grip the cushions or scream but she can’t. She can’t even close her eyes anymore. It hurts and there’s nothing she can do about it._

 

_Then it doesn’t hurt anymore because she’s not in her body anymore. She’s watching Maia tear out her spine, piece by piece, and replace it with microchips and metal, from a distance. Nothing hurts._

 

_Widow’s here._

 

_“You scared me,” Widow tells her. Sombra smiles._

 

_“Come on. You know this turns out okay.”_

 

_“How do you know?” Widow asks. Sombra frowns and gestures over herself._

 

_“I mean, I’m here now, aren’t I?”_

 

_“Yes, but you–” Widow stops and looks down. Sombra waits._

 

_“I’m still scared,” Widow says. Sombra takes her hand._

 

_“Maia’s the best cyberneticist in Dorado,” Sombra says. “And you’ve seen what I can do. This all turns out alright. You know that.”_

 

_“Sombra, what are you talking about?”_

 

The pain’s back but it’s not the sharp pain, it’s a low ache. She’s not in the basement anymore. The whirr of the drill is replaced by a sterile beep.

 

“Oh,” Sombra says, and she can’t make out Widow very clearly anymore, but she can feel the tremble of her hand in her own. She wants to tell Widow that everything’s going to be okay again. But she knows Widow hates it when she lies.

 

“Thanks for coming,” she says instead.

 

She hears Widow say, “Okay,” and then she fades away, _and Sombra’s alone–_

 

-

 

“Lacroix.”

 

Widow did not look away from Sombra’s drooping eyelids, or let go of her slack hand. “It’s been a few days,” she said. “Tell me what you’re doing to her.”

 

“I’m helping her,” Moira huffed. Widow heard her absurd shoes clacking closer. “She’s still in a nonfunctional condition. You still can’t talk to her. So.”

 

Widow stood, Sombra’s hand sliding out of hers as she did so. Moira was almost directly behind her. “Tell me exactly what you are doing to her,” she said, her voice low.

 

For a moment, Moira looked genuinely afraid. Then her face resumed its typically smug neutral state. “As I said previously, Sombra’s firewalls are substantial. That has impeded my ability to treat her. So,” she flourished with her hand, producing a marked up full body scan, “I’ve started to remove Sombra’s cybernetics, and once I have her system fully extracted, I’ll add antiviral agents, and then I’ll reassemble her. Then,” she snapped her hand shut, disappearing the image and reveal her cold smile, “you will have your girl back. Is that satisfactory?”

 

Widow felt behind her for Sombra’s hand. Her fingers grazed her knuckles and she left them there. “You’re reprogramming her,” she said. Moira’s smile disappeared.

 

“In the sense that I am saving her life, yes.”

 

“No. You’re not.” She took a step towards Moira, and Moira took a step back. “I know you hate her. I know you hate how smart she is, how she knows more about what’s going on than you. How she can build cybernetics you can’t reprogram, so you just have to stick your own, shittier programs on top of them. And how many degrees do you have again, doctor? She doesn’t have any. Your parents bought you decades of education and she taught herself and she’s smarter than you. That must sting, doesn’t it?”

 

“You don’t have a point here, Lacroix,” Moira said through gritted teeth. “Get out of my lab.”

 

“Yes I do,” Widow said. “You hate her and you’re afraid of her. So now that she’s vulnerable, you’re going to hit her. Do what you did to Reyes and me because you’re not very creative, are you, doctor? You have one trick and that’s to cripple people, make it so they’re dependent on you to survive. So Sombra can never replace you or edge you out or else she’ll die. You can’t beat her and she won’t let you join her so you have to drag her down. I know you, doctor.” Widow stuck out her tattooed arm and Moira flinched. “I know what you do. And I’m not going to let you do it to her.”

 

“What are you going to do to me, then, Lacroix?” Moira asked softly. Her face was neutral once more and the lump was back in Widow’s throat. She was just barely still touching Sombra and she drew her hand away. She walked past Moira and did not look back. She walked and did not stop until she reached her quarters. When she got there, Reyes was still there. He looked up as she came in. His face was so hopeful that Widow wanted to cry. But she couldn’t cry anymore.

 

“What happened?” he asked.

 

“I called her an idiot,” Widow said. His face crumpled. “And then I threatened her.” He buried his head in his hands. She sat down next to him on the couch. “What do we do now, Reyes?”

 

He lowered his hands. “I already talked to Akande,” he told her. “It’s your turn.”

 

-

 

_Sombra wants to be alone. Maia doesn’t want her to be alone. “Everything’s still booting up,” she told her. “I give you like, five days, at the least, before you’re fully functional. Until then, you’re super vulnerable to all the viruses and shit that are bouncing around here. You should stay here.”_

 

_“I designed all this,” Sombra says. She contorts her fingers around, and even though she knows it’s not possible, she swears she can feel the cables in her bones. “I’m a better programmer than anyone else in this town. In the world. Nothing’s going to get by me.”_

 

_Maia rolls her eyes. “Yeah, fine,” she says, because she knows better than to argue with Sombra, and sure as shit knows better than to bring up the fact that Sombra’s here in the first place because someone was better than her. “But you’re not at your hundred percent. It doesn’t matter how smart you are. Even you can’t make yourself instantaneously secure.”_

 

_Sombra hops off the table. “I’ll be fine, Maia.”_

 

_“Sombra–”_

 

_“Seriously.” She gives her a big smile and thumbs up. Swears she feels the cable again as her hand moves. “Thanks again, man. You did a great job. I’ll call you when I get home, if that’ll make you feel better.”_

 

_Maia doesn’t try to argue anymore. She doesn’t even point out that Sombra can’t go home, that if she does the Eye will find her instantly. She lets Sombra walk out the door without another word._

 

_The world’s different, when she steps out into the sunlight. She smells the Gulf breeze and feels the sun on her skin and hears the muffled sounds of a city around a quiet street, but there’s something else there too. A new sense, ambient as the others, shocking in how utterly mundane it feels. Putting it in terms of her other senses doesn’t feel right but those are the only words she can find right now. It’s like she can hear holovids calling out texts, feel the thrum of wireless networks in the air. This city tastes like Omnics, and she had never noticed before. It’s utterly disorienting. It’s exhilarating. She’s walked these streets all her life and yet she makes her way down the block at a snail’s pace, as though she’ll get lost._

 

_Her hotel’s seven blocks away. That seems almost overwhelming, but Sombra also very badly wants to be outside, to experience and discover. She takes her time. Feels the gradations of networks shifting from one street to the next. Picks up instantly on Omnic projections she’d needed to decode before._

 

_She doesn’t feel the virus hit her. One second she’s walking, the next she’s on the sidewalk face down and utterly immobile. And her whole body burns._

 

_She doesn’t know how long she lies there, helpless and in pain. But at some point, she hears, “What the fuck’s that?” and two pairs of ratty flip flops come into view._

 

_“Shit. That’s Colomar, right? I haven’t seen her in weeks.” It sounds like a teenage boy. Sombra can make out the faint discoloration of a glow in the dark Muertos tattoo on his shin._

 

_“She’s all fucked up.” Sombra feels herself being moved onto her side. “But she’s breathing. And I don’t see anything wrong with her.”_

 

_“Wait then. You think Luis wasn’t bullshitting? You think she actually did it?”_

 

_“Fuck if I know, but Maia’ll know what to do with her no matter what.”_

 

_Before they pick her up, one of the boys reaches into her pocket and takes out her wallet. She can’t even move her face to scowl at him._

 

_She hears Maia sigh and thank the boys. They drop her into Maia’s arms. Maia was always exceptionally strong, Sombra remembers as she’s carried downstairs into the workshop. Maia sets her on a table and steps away for a minute, rustles in the corner, and comes back to her side. She sticks an IV in Sombra’s arm._

 

_“It’ll leave your system in a few days,” Maia says. “But I can’t do anything to speed it up. You’re just going to have to wait.” Sombra doesn’t say anything in response. She can’t. “I’m sorry. I told–” Maia cuts herself off. “I’m sorry. You’ll be okay, Sombra. I promise.”_

 

_There’s another knock on the door. Sombra hears Maia climb up the steps and hears the basement door shut behind her and then, Sombra’s alone–_

 

-

 

Reyes had left her apartment soon after that, and gone back to his own quarters. Or perhaps his boyfriend’s, Widow thought, given that Akande looked fatigued the second he saw her enter his office.

 

“I reviewed O’Deorain’s work,” he said, before she could open her mouth. “Nothing she’s doing is making Sombra any less capable.”

 

“You’re not a cyberneticist,” Widow said.

 

“I’m not O’Deorain’s boss, either.” He rubbed his head. “Nothing’s she’s doing is actively harming Sombra, in fact it’s helping her. I can’t tell her to stop doing her job just because you and Reyes don’t like her.”

 

“Akande. Please.” He turned his eyes down to his desk. “Sombra is an incredibly useful asset. O’Deorain’s meddling will hamper her capabilities. And I…” Widow blinked a few times. “I like her quite a bit, as she is. It would be in your best interest to keep her from O’Deorain’s interventions and I am asking you as a friend. Please.”

 

Akande folded his hands and stared down at them. Widow did not dare so much as breathe. “I want to help you, Widow,” he said finally. “I agree with you. I’d like to do what you’re saying. But O’Deorain is our most competent doctor, and the only one familiar with cybernetics. I’ve reviewed Sombra’s condition. If I take her away from O’Deorain, there is no one else in the organization that can keep her alive.”

 

“But if she stays with O’Deorain, then she won’t live right,” Widow said. She was quite certain she was not showing how much those last words terrified her. “There has to be another way.”

 

Akande rubbed the cybernetic implants on his temples. “I don’t know, Widow. Do you have any ideas?”

 

She was sure he meant it as a rhetorical question, but she still thought. And as she thought, she arrived at a lifeline.

 

“Give me a week,” she said.

 

“A day,” he responded.

 

“Three days,” she said, and he snorted and nodded. “Just keep her away from O’Deorain, okay?” she said, as she pushed out of her chair and nearly sprinted out the door. “I’ll fix this. I have this.”

 

-

 

_Sombra’s alone. Or maybe she’s not. Maia might be in the room but then again, would it matter if she was? Sombra can’t see. She can’t hear. And so if Maia is here, what could Maia do for her? And so, she decides that she can state with confidence, she is alone._

 

_She doesn’t know how long she’s been here, on her own. She knows that soon after Maia set her up in her basement, her senses went. She knows she’s been in pain ever since. Sometimes she swears she sees the virus, hears it, feels it. It’s like light, but sticky. It hurts._

 

_She doesn’t know how long she’ll be like this. She wonders, if she goes unresponsive long enough, if Maia will take out the IV. She hopes so. She doesn’t want to be in pain like this forever._

 

_Or maybe Maia will leave her like this, because Maia never had the stomach she did. Had a nice house in a nice neighborhood all her life. Maybe she won’t take it out. Maybe Sombra’s alone. Maybe she’s not. She doesn’t know anymore._

 

-

 

Dorado was the antithesis of the Hague. The sun shone bright here, and Widow shed her light jacket the second she stepped off the drop ship. There were gulls screeching overhead and the ambient sounds of a city all around her. She saw Muertos graffiti on the wall of the alley she had landed in. She remembered Sombra showing her how to tag, and quickly walked past it.

 

She had no idea where she was going. Sombra had told her nothing about her childhood or her home. Widow had identified Dorado simply because it was the most likely culprit– for all she knew, Sombra could have grown up miles away and chosen Dorado as her playground later. But Dorado was the best she had. So she walked down the lumpy sidewalks and past brightly colored streets, looking for someone with skeletal tattoos.

 

The Muertos tattoos were designed so that they were invisible in the day, and glaring at night. But with her augmented vision, Widow could see the slight sheen to the teens’ hands as they gesticulated in some asinine conversation. The group grew silence as Widow drew near.

 

“I’m looking for a woman named Maia,” she said.

 

“Fuck off,” a girl with bright pink hair said. Her friends snickered behind her. Widow gave a patient smile.

 

“It’s an urgent matter. I need to speak with her immediately.”

 

One of the girl’s friends nudged her, and she glared back at them before turning back to Widow. “Then you won’t mind paying me to tell you,” she said.

 

The kids behind her giggled again, but suddenly every adolescent eye was on her. Widow grit her teeth and pulled out her wallet. “Here,” she said, pulling out a wad of bills. “Five hundred euros. It’s all I have.”

 

The girl grabbed it out of her hand, counted it, and grinned up at Widow. “Thanks,” she said. “I have no idea who the fuck you’re talking about. Get the fuck off our turf.”

 

The kids behind her whooped in laughter. Widow sighed and rabbit kicked her in the stomach. The girl staggered back into her friends, who gawped at their friend. One of them stumbled towards Widow, and Widow grabbed her by the neck and tossed her into the wall. She picked up the pink-haired girl by her hair and tilted her face towards her.

 

“Okay,” Widow said pleasantly. “You don’t know her. Would you mind pointing me in the direction of someone who does?”

 

“Fuck, I dunno, man,” the girl said. Widow pulled a knife out of her pocket and the girl whimpered. “I– try the Nieveses! They know everyone, okay? Everyone goes there.”

 

“Everyone goes where?”

 

“The bakery,” the girl said. “Near the church, near the pyramid. By the water. Try there.”

 

Widow let go of the girl and stood. “Thank you for your help,” she said, and turned and walked away. She left the money with the girl.

 

She walked past the Lúmerico pyramid, still darkened from Sombra’s assault, and the church, its doors thrown wide open and the sounds of chatter spilling out into the street. It was dusk when she reached the bakery. The sun lit up the Gulf in reds and oranges. A bell chimed over the door as Widow entered, and the woman behind the counter pushed her hair away from her face with her wrist.

 

“Welcome to Panadería de las Nieblas,” she said. “Can I help you?”

 

Widow looked her over. Her lower half was obscured by the counter, but her hair was frizzing out of its ponytail and bandana. The apron she was wearing was doing a poor job of keeping flour off her clothes.

 

“You’re Nieves?” she asked.

 

“I’m– I’m Patricia Nieves, yes.” The woman shifted on her feet, her eyes darting past Widow, to the door. “How can I help you?”

 

“I’m looking for a woman named Maia.”

 

“Oh!” Patricia visibly relaxed. “Oh, that’s what your here for.” Widow frowned but Patricia did not seem to notice as she hurried around the counter, pulling her holovid out of her pocket. “She lives close by, actually. Just a ten minute walk or so. And I don’t think anyone will bother you on that route.” She pulled up a map on her holovid and dropped a pin. Widow studied the address and surrounding streets, and nodded. Patricia smiled. “She’s the best in the city. You’ve chosen well.”

 

“Yes,” Widow said. “Thank you.” She walked to the door, then stopped. “Also,” she said. “Do you know anyone named Sombra?”

 

Patricia froze in place, still looking down at her holovid. When she lifted her head, she was smiling. “No,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

 

“No reason,” Widow said, and left, the chime of the bell echoing behind her.

 

Maia’s house was uphill. Widow was painstakingly aware of her surroundings, but Patricia had not been wrong. No one bothered her. Maia’s neighborhood was nice, she thought. The streets were clean, there were chalk drawings on the sidewalk instead of Muertos graffiti on the walls. She wondered if Sombra had ever lived here.

 

She walked up the stoop at the appointed address and rang the bell. She could hear a faint grind below her suddenly stop. She waited for a minute, and then a woman with short gray hair and crow’s feet opened the door.

 

“You’re Maia,” Widow said. The woman frowned.

 

“Yes. Can I help you?”

“Sombra needs your help,” Widow said. And whatever reaction she had been expecting, it certainly was not a beleaguered sigh.

 

“Not urgently, I hope?”

 

“Well, we must leave as soon as possible–”

 

“But she’s not around the corner bleeding out. Alright, alright. Just let me pack my bag.” Maia turned and walked into the house. Widow loitered in the porch light for a moment longer before awkwardly stepping in. She could hear Maia rustling in the room over.

 

“I thought I’d have to do more to convince you,” she called. The rustling stopped and Maia poked her head out.

 

“Well shit, it’s Sombra, y’know?” she said. “I’ve known her since she was a kid. And I mean– we take care of each other, around here. So I’ll cover her back. Even if she is off running around with some god-knows-what terrorist group and a fancy French wifey.”

 

“I’m not–” Maia had already gone back into the room and so Widow just stood there, caught between the fear twisting her gut and the little smile on her face.

 

-

 

_Maia’s here. Sombra’s not alone._

 

_Her senses came back to her after… some time. She still doesn’t know what time it is, how long she’s been like this. Maia hasn’t told her. She’s told her that she’s stable, that she hasn’t suffered any brain damage or permanent systems damage, and that the virus is on its way out of her system. That she’ll be normal again by the end of the day. But she hasn’t told her how long she was like that. Sombra doesn’t blame her, really. Maia’s never been here. She can’t be expected to know what’s important._

 

_Some more time passes– still the same day, must be, Maia hasn’t told her otherwise– and then when Sombra tries wiggling her toes, her body responds. She tries lifting her arm and it’s sore as hell, but it goes up. She hears Maia’s approaching footsteps._

 

_“Look at you,” she says. “How many times are you going to keep fucking up my hard work?”_

 

_“I only just got it,” Sombra says. She can turn her head, so now she sees Maia’s brow knit in confusion. But before she opens her mouth, someone else speaks._

 

“She’s only just coming too. She must still be confused. Give her time.” Sombra blinked and lifted her head, her back muscles straining to support her. She was in Maia’s basement, not Moira’s lab, and yet there was–

 

“Widow?” Widow nodded and gave her a small smile. “What happened?”

 

“You fucked up my hard work,” Maia repeated. She walked around the table and pushed on Sombra’s forehead gently, and Sombra reclined fully once more. “I think that’s all your ‘friend’ wants to tell me. So you two can catch up later.”

 

Sombra turned her head to Widow, only to be jerked back by Maia as she set about examining her neural implants. “How did you find…?” she asked anyway, trailing off at the end.

 

“You mentioned her name when I came to visit,” Widow said.

 

Sombra blinked, trying to think. “Just her name?”

 

“Just her name.”

 

“Then how did you know she was a cyberneticist?”

 

“I didn’t,” Widow said. “I just got lucky.”

 

Maia let go of Sombra’s head and stood fully upright. “Right,” she said. “She’s stable. I’ll let you two catch up now. But I gotta come back in like a half hour, and take out all the shit that got stapled onto her.” And with that she strode up the basement stairs, resolutely not looking back, and shut the door behind her. Sombra pushed herself up on her elbows and took a deep breath. Widow took a step closer.

 

“Moira added her own cybernetics, when she was ‘treating’ you,” she said. “But I believe your doctor will be able to fully remove them.”

 

“She will,” Sombra said, intuiting the question Widow refused to ask. “She’s the best here. I’m glad you got me to her.”

 

“Yes,” Widow said. “So am I.”

 

They both fell silent. Sombra looked around her. The leather upholstery of the surgical table was patched in places now. The checkered floor had more scuffs than she remembered. Maia had bought some new tools, and there weren’t quite as many energy drink cans littering the room as there were before. But it still looked, and felt, largely the same. It still felt like the place where she had really and truly shed her past. Seeing Widowmaker here felt like a dream.

 

Being here at all felt like a dream, if she was being honest. She had always just assumed she would never look back.

 

“You scared me,” Widow said, pulling Sombra from her thoughts. Widow was still a few paces away from the table, her head down, some of her long hair hanging over her eyes. “When you fell. I didn’t know what had happened to you, and I didn’t know what was going to happen to you. I was scared. I wish you had told me what was going on.”

 

“If I had told you, you wouldn’t have been able to do anything to stop it, you would have just–”

 

“Sombra,” Widow said, cutting her off. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just– telling you. I wish you had told me what was going on.”

 

Sombra blinked, then nodded. “Okay,” she said. “If it happens again, I will.”

 

“Thank you,” Widow said. They were both silent for a moment. Sombra picked at one of the patches sewn into the table.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Widow asked suddenly. Sombra looked up.

 

“I don’t know,” she said. Widow said nothing. Sombra thought and felt a twist in her stomach when she realized she had not been lying. “I really don’t know,” she said. “You’re right, I should have–”

 

“I’m not mad at you.”

 

“I know you’re not, but just– you’re right. I should have. I don’t know, Widow.”

 

“It’s okay,” Widow said. Sombra could not relax, and she curled in on herself as Widow sat down at the table near her feet. Widow gripped the edge and leaned forward. “Reyes has a theory,” she told her. Sombra was still deeply and unnervingly uncertain, but that would always be enough to make her roll her eyes.

 

“Grand,” she said, and Widow laughed a little.

 

“Do you want to hear it or not?”

 

“Is it that I’m an insufferable know-it-all who never _sticks to the mission_?”

 

“No,” Widow said. “Well, maybe that too. But he said it’s because you don’t like people seeing you be vulnerable.”

 

“Huh.” Sombra leaned back a little. “Tell Gabe he should maybe talk to that therapist about his own issues, not mine.” Widow laughed again, but softer and sadder this time. Sombra did not take her eyes off her. “I still don’t know, Widow. I don’t know what to say. I don’t think anyone likes looking weak, do they?”

 

“No,” Widow agreed.

 

“And especially not in our field. Especially not when looking weak for a moment could get you killed.”

 

Widow turned and looked at her. “Do you think Gabriel or I would kill you, Sombra?”

 

“What? No!” Widow tilted her head, her expression painstakingly neutral. “But I…”

 

“But that’s been the case before,” Widow supplied, when Sombra could not find any more words. Sombra nodded quickly.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And that sort of thing sticks with you.”

 

“Yeah.” Sombra sat up again and scooted down the table, closer to Widow. “I told you Widow, I didn’t have a good reason, I just…” Widow waited but once more, Sombra could not find the words. She shut her eyes in frustration, and then felt Widow’s cool hand on her cheek.

 

“It’s okay,” Widow said softly. “I get it. I do. I’m not mad. You’re okay.”

 

Sombra nodded, and could not stop herself from leaning into Widow’s hand. When she opened her eyes, she saw Widow watching her carefully. “Thank you,” she said.

 

“It’s not a problem at all.”

 

“Well, no, I mean– thank you for this, but also everything else. You got me to Maia, and away from Moira– I can only imagine the kind of bullshit she was up to.” Widow snorted in affirmation. “And you know, you brought me back to the ship when I collapsed, you stayed with me here, and you– you visited me, when I was at Moira’s. I… thank you, Widow.”

 

“Ah.” Widow kicked her feet a little. “Yes. Of course. That was no problem, either.”

 

“Yeah it was,” Sombra said. She looked around the room again, this time noting the pipes hanging from the ceiling and the rifle in the corner. “I don’t think you’ve been to Dorado before, right?” Widow shook her head. “This place can be kind of tough on new people. Especially if you’re just traipsing around, asking for some random lady.”

 

“I can handle myself,” Widow said, and Sombra snorted.

 

“Yeah. You’re right. You must have been fine.” Widow smiled at her and Sombra felt the pull at her gut once more. “How did you find Maia?” she asked, quieter now.

 

“You said her name when you were out, and the way you talked about her made me think she was a doctor or cyberneticist or something along those lines. And since I can handle myself,” Widow’s smile suddenly became more toothy, “finding her was not an overly difficult task. I just had to ask in a couple places.”

 

“Right,” Sombra said. “Cool.” She leaned forward on her legs. “Did I… say anything else, when I was out?”

 

“You thanked me for coming to see you.”

 

“Oh. Good. Glad loopy me isn’t rude.” Widow laughed. Sombra smiled a little. “Sorry, I just… Gabe’s right, I guess.”

 

“I won’t tell him.”

 

“Thanks.” Sombra looked back at Widow. She was still watching her closely. “You want me to tell you when shit’s up, right?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Well, this makes me nervous. You, being here, knowing Maia, being in spitting distance of all this shit I left behind– I hate it, Widow.” She waved a hand around the room, over checkered floors and surgical equipment. “I wanted this shit to be done. I wanted this chapter in my life closed. I like where I am now, free to go where I want and with you and Gabe. I like who I am now. I don’t want you to have to deal with who I was before, because I got rid of her for a reason. And now you’re here anyway and it just– I don’t like it, Widow. I kind of fuckin’ hate it.”

 

Widow was silent for a minute. Sombra tapped her feet against the table leg.

 

“I like who you are now too, Sombra,” Widow said. “And me being here doesn’t change who you are. But I am here. And you were who you were. And so we can face that, or we can run.”

 

Sombra looked over at Widow, so close to her side, her nice clothes and her blue skin and golden eyes so thoroughly out of place is this ramshackle basement. Widow was still looking back and Sombra smiled.

 

“I don’t feel like running,” she said, and Widow smiled back.

 

“Me neither.” And Widow leaned in and kissed her. And Sombra moved into her, reached out a hand to touch her thigh, every nerve alive and so completely present, and so very aware that she was not alone.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much to my artists 1) @rody_does_art_thing on instagram; 2) @icewuerfelchen on twitter & tumblr; & 3) @extravagantmodesty on tumblr/seventeencommanders on FFN & AO3! I got so lucky in this Big Bang and I'm so so grateful <3
> 
> I'm @tacticalgrandma on twitter and tumblr if you want to talk to me there!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and comments/kudos would me the world to me! And please check out the other stuff in this event <3


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